His
by writeallnight
Summary: A series of un-related one-shots from Deeks' point of view taking place throughout the run of the show. No particular rhyme or reason, just a lot of feelings!
1. Kiss Me Through the Bars

A/N: I'm super obsessed with the earwig kiss scene from "Under Siege." Legit, it is probably my second favorite scene of the season. It might have been first except then during "767" we got a little Densi snuggle time and well...that's definitely in first place now. Enjoy!

* * *

The next thing he knew her mouth was on his, warm and inviting, her hand reaching through the bars to bury itself in his curls as she pulled him as close as she possibly could. He started in surprise at her boldness considering their audience, but then he was kissing her back. He couldn't help it.

Her lips parted, inviting him to deepen the kiss and he responded immediately. It had been so long since she had kissed him like this and with the way things stood right now, her on one side of the bars, him on the other, it might be a long time before he kissed her again. The cement floors, Whiting, and his smelly roommates all melted away until there was nothing left but the two of them.

She was kissing him like their lives depended on it and it was everything he remembered and more. God he'd missed her. He drank in her sweetness until he couldn't breathe, until his knees went weak…and then he nearly choked as something slipped from her mouth into his. _What the hell?_

Whiting's hands found Kensi's shoulders pulling her away, ending the kiss as abruptly as it had begun. Deeks immediately clamped his lips shut and just watched as Kensi gave Whiting what for. He didn't dare speak, even as she walked out the door, for fear that whatever was inside his mouth would fall out. God only knew what his face looked like as he waited anxiously for Whiting to disappear.

The second she was out of sight Deeks spat the offending object into his hand.

An earwig.

His girlfriend was a goddess, she was a _damn goddess_ , and he would tell her so. Just as soon as he got the hell out of here…


	2. Moonlight

A/N: Guess who's still around? I know it's been a bit. Honestly, I've been completely uninspired. Not sure what's going on. This is actually an old fic that I've been messing around with forever. I really do love it and I've been trying to get it right. I think it's finally there. Enjoy!

* * *

He's watching her sleep again.

It's something he does often. More often than she knows, because the nightmares come more often than he lets on. And when they do, watching her until her peacefulness absorbs into his own body is the only thing that sends him back to sleep.

She's caught him once or twice. If she wakes up now she'll punch him and tell him to stop being creepy and that she can't sleep while he watches.

But tonight, blessedly, she doesn't stir, completely serene in the moonlight that slips in through the curtains. And he's grateful, because this nightmare was particularly bad and he needs her gentle presence here beside him.

In the days before her, he spent a lot of nights lying awake with nothing but the sound of his own heartbeat roaring in his ears for hours on end. The night terrors had started when he was a child. The fear of his father that he kept firmly in check during the day came for him in the dark. Growing older made them worse, as his father's threats and anger reached a boiling point and ultimately sent him to a point of no return.

The night he'd shot his father was the first night he'd slept without dreams in years. The sheer weight of the man's violent presence lifting from the house had been enough to give him peace for one night. But it hadn't lasted. The fear was too old, too deep seated to be kept at bay for long. And once he'd killed Boyle he'd just accepted that sleep wasn't something he deserved anymore.

He'd tried some therapy, but it hadn't lasted. Medication hadn't worked either. Instead it seemed to infuriate his subconscious, infusing his dreams with a new strength that regularly reduced him to a trembling, sweaty mess. Insomnia had gripped him deeply, leaving him edgy and exhausted all day long.

But then she'd come into his life and it had changed everything. Thank god, it had changed _everything._ Now when the fury of a nightmare overtakes him, ripping him from slumber, her presence is there to ground him. To remind him that they are safe and happy. That the nightmares aren't real anymore.

The steady rise and fall of her chest soothes the rapid beating of his heart. He can just make out her hair on the pillow, the soft skin of her shoulder, the gentle curve of her hip. He loves how beautiful she is, outside and in. She makes him feel safe and wanted. She makes him believe he's a good person. It's what he needs to get through the night.

He lies down again, wrapping his arm around her waist. She sighs and curls into his chest. He closes his eyes. He breathes. And he sleeps.


	3. My Sunshine

A/N: Not sure where this came from, but I think I love it.

* * *

This was his favorite way to experience her; her skin kissed by the sun, hair tangling around her shoulders, eyes bright as she laughed at something he'd just said. These golden moments where all the struggles she'd had melted away and she became a creature of pure joy, filling his soul to bursting and making him believe they might never be unhappy again.

They were on a beach full of people, but she was the only thing he could see. She radiated light and hope like the damn sun and he drank it in. He could cry at the beauty of it all.

She leaned forward to kiss him and he tasted saltwater and chocolate. He threaded his fingers into her hair, pulling her closer, attempting to hold onto this moment forever. Because it was perfect, _they_ were perfect, here and now, lying in the sand as waves crashed onto the shore beside them.

She rested her head on his chest and he felt her breath against his skin, her heartbeat becoming one with his own. He couldn't have found the words to express what he was feeling even if he'd tried, so he simply let it be, not wanting to mar the exquisite beauty of this moment with something bumbling or inadequate.

If he told her how she'd saved him, she'd brush it off and say they'd saved each other, which he knew full well was not the case. She'd pulled him from the pit of hell, taught him how to believe again. Without him she would have been fine. Without her he would have become a monster.

Instead they had hours of idyllic bliss that made him ache with happiness. He could lay here with her in his arms for days and it wouldn't be enough. It was so simple, nothing special to anyone else, but to him these little moments were everything.

The sun was disappearing, the beach emptying out as daylight slipped down the horizon, bringing with it the coolness of evening. He took her hand, pulling her to her feet, draping his arm around her as they left the sand and headed for home. There were days in the past that he would have stayed on the beach alone until blackness engulfed it, unwilling to lose a drop of sunshine. But things were different now. His whole world had changed. And she was the only sunshine he needed.


End file.
